This book is best condemned by one of the silent funnyman’s own poems. When I am hanging from the hands of a clock And I’m high up from the ground These are the words I would have said If my films could convey sound “Pardon my french, but fuck right off, I’m not doing that, If you think I’m going up there, You take me for a twat.” Harold Lloyd is shit. It is well known that mime is shit, and I would venture into saying that stuntmen are also shit. Harold Lloyd therefore cops a double whammy of turd.
Manchester’s fondess for Aberdeen leads to trouble with Liverpool, who has had its eye on Aberdeen for some time, and has been buying it drinks for weeks. Manchester makes its move hiding behind Derby, but Liverpool is visiting Nottingham in Leicester at the time, and sees the whole thing. Liverpool tells Glasgow, who vows a bloody revenge. Manchester decides to lie low in Paris for a while, and this is where the fun really begins - an adventure of misunderstanding as Paris tries to hide Manchester, who climbs out of her back window on a string of knotted motorways while Glasgow goes through her landmarks. This book, it has to be said, is a long shit. It manages to combine all the aspects of shit without the satisfaction on doing one.

Nu-metal has never sounded so sexy! The murderous instincts of this band are well documented - lead singer Hans Freakkit’s infamous soundbites include “didn't I kill you last week?”, and “I was born dead, so there”. Well now they’ve gone deep underground and blown my eggs off. Sequential notes forming fluid sonorous contours, occasionally two different tones occur simultaneously, forming a chord - at times it seems like they have played all seven chords that there are. A high point of their lyrical lambast arrives when Hans launches into the chorus of "Gob On My Dong" - gonna burn your hair / it's too long / gonna burn your hair / with my souped-up tong / gonna burn your hair / at the sound of the gong / unless you choose / to gob on my dong That being said, the album's shit. Load of shouting bastards. It's enough to make you want to go to a Virgin Megastore and shoot the bastards for giving it a veneer of respectability by stocking this stool of a record.
Why did Norway’s premier songwriter call his album Sperm Wail? I put the question to Papa Mundi himself, myself. “It’s all to do with coming into a swan when you have slammed its neck in a wardrobe”, he explained. “It’s not shocking. I heard about it on one of your comedy shows, and decided to give it a whirl.” But things didn’t go according to plan. “I was expecting the anal contractions from the damned bird, but then it went pooing all over my cock, which ruined the moment entirely.” Anyway, the music’s shit - like a cross between a band with shit lyrics and a band with shit music. This record should be put in a sock and used as a weapon in a borstal.

Quick plot synopsis. A pair of twins born to kind-hearted hooker by unknown father - one twin has a pair of the most kissable, shiny wet lips - the other has a messed-up hair lip face and eats beetles. Only Sweet Lips can see Messy Lips’ beauty - and here the film veers dramatically from bittersweet psychodrama to romantic comedy, as the girls go through their mother’s client book to find out who their father could be. Beppo the Clown doesn’t know what’s about to hit him! This film is shit.
This film charts the decline of the Brown family, who live in Stourbridge, near Birmingham during the dark, ugly years of the 80’s. Acknowledging that most of the country don’t care to hear the Birmingham accent in company, let alone watch a film with people talking thick slow nonsense, the directors of this remarkable film have dubbed farts over their voices. This considerate - and canny - move has transformed the film into a cult classic. For instance, note the transformation of the rape of Victoria Brown, her squealing protests replaced by a staccato “parper”. What was grim and tasteless now becomes a hilarious rompalong rape not seen since the musical rape of A Clockwork Orange. This film is the only thing I can say that isn’t shit. If you don’t ignore everything this year, then don’t ignore this.